In Darkness She Is All I Need
by Lantern92
Summary: Fingers trace your every outline, paint a picture with my hands. Back and forth we sway like branches in a storm; change the weather still together when it ends ...That maybe all I need...


22 months…

It had been a perfectly even 22 months since I had been on an _actual_ date with a _real_ person and now I knew why.

Most of the girls I was set up on blind dates with were superficial and their charm was gormless.

I might as well have stayed at home and talked to a spoon.

For some reason, my friends all felt like it was their life's mission to play cupid with my love life. They probably made a bet that whoever hooked me up with my next girlfriend would win a golden sticker or some shit.

The funny thing about this was how they seem to unanimously agree on the type of woman I was interested in: offbeat, blonde and a huge set of knockers. In that order.

This week, it was Chuckie's turn to pick out my blind date. Selma.

She talked a lot and smelt of a strong designer fragrance that all but made me sick the closer I got to her. If her short, tightly fitting dress didn't already show her intention for the night, her actions during the date did.

She went from groping my thighs to distastefully flashing me a nip… Looks like it was going to end up like all the other dates – sex at her place.

I mean, sure it was fun to begin with. But now I grew tired of the routine.

I had both fallen in love with and grown to appreciate a whole different kind of woman; and they could not have been further from the truth.

This girl was beautiful, smart, funny, bold, dark haired, luscious curves, athletic and petite. She knew the depths of my soul better than any woman could ever hope to.

I had been in love with her since I was 13 or 14, maybe earlier. It's really hard to tell. We grew up together.

See in my mind, a carefully conceived plan had been playing out for eleven years now.

I was the protagonist fooling everyone into perceiving a part of me that really wasn't there. The script was unfolding perfectly, except my grand plan always led me into situations like this... miserable and frustrated... wishing I was at home talking to spoons.

The older I got, the more I realised that I was only fooling myself. Trying to prove to everyone that I didn't have something wrong with me was proving to be more difficult than I had anticipated. It was like I was hiding a part of myself and if I was to be honest, I hated it.

I hated how the truth could result in a life worse than death. I hated the uncertainty it brought. I hated how I didnt understand what I waswas going through. Most of all, I hated that I could never tell HER...

Typical story of guy in love with girl, but can't have said girl.

The one person I wanted I wasn't allowed to have.

And by wasn't allowed to have I didn't mean she was married, engaged, a friend's mother, deceased or anything as simple as that. Hell, I wished it was every time I inappropriately thought of her or spoke to her or even just looked at her.

When I mentioned that I grew up with her, I literally meant it. She was no childhood friend, girl next door, highschool crush or anything like that; no. I grew up in the same house as she, the same parents raised us and we spent every waking hour together since birth.

Simply put, the forbidden fruit that my universe revolved around was my own twin sister, Lillian Deville.

Years had passed. I spent most of them trying to talk myself out of my feelings for her.

I attempted to convince myself that I loved her the way any brother would love his twin sister. That it was normal, completely ordinary and I had nothing to worry about. At 11 I knew I admired her and wanted to always be around her, but for my young mind, that's where it stopped.

Through fights and games and secret twin languages we grew closer; but as adolescence reared it's head around the corner, we began to drift apart, hanging out with our own group of friends.

It was during my teenage years that I realized that my feelings were not as... well... chaste as I wanted them to be, no matter how much I willed it.

God knows, I fought long and hard not to notice her body blossoming, but no matter how much I tried I failed dismally. Eventually, I just stopped talking to her as a coping mechanism.

The hot summers would come and Lillian would often sunbathe with her friends by the pool at our childhood home. I usually spent those days away at Tommy's house, but one day the Pickles' had gone off on vacation and I had to endure that fateful summer's day indoors.

That was the first time I spotted them from my bedroom.

At 17, no, it just before our 17th birthday. 5 years ago. I felt like the hugest creep in the universe when, of all the skimpily clad girls by the poolside, I was fixated on her. My own twin.

It wasn't even like there were two or three girls there. Lil would often invite the whole fucken cheerleading team for summer sleepovers. Six to eight of the sexiest, most popular girls at our highschool ... and yet none caught my attention the way she had.

You don't get how unbelievably unnatural it felt to be that captivated by my sister, especially when some of those girls had made it clear time and again that they were interested in doing expletives to me whenever I'd run into them in their tiny pajama shorts at my house during those sleepovers.

Of course being a guy I would oblige all too willingly, forcing the thought of Lillian from my mind and choosing to distract myself with her friends instead.

After a minute of watching Lil that day like some damn sex predator, I looked away from my blinds. Ashamed of the tightness I was feeling around my pants. Terrified, angry, confused, aroused... all those bad words that describe bad people described me.

From then on, I went out of my way to ignore her more than usual and kept to myself for a good six weeks while trying to place my feelings in the little black box of forbidden emotions.

Of course being my twin, she noticed. She attempted to confront me about it, but that only ended up in a screaming match about completely irrelevant things and she would always storm away crying.

I'd feel even more like shit after those fights. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. Self-loathing set in.

Months passed. Our birthday was coming around and Lillian being Lillian began planning a huge party. Her blessed soul never kept grudges and she would usually come into my room to get my input on what I wanted at the party or to finalize the guest list.

I kept my answers short and vague, keeping myself preoccupied with a gaming console just to avoid facing her, looking her in those gorgeous eyes, lest she read my dark secret right off my face using her twin-tuition.

It worked so I figured that although I had just narrowly escaped that one, I could never avoid her forever.

I even got to the point of driving early mornings before she left for school, preoccupying myself with my own group of friends and shutting myself in my room before I could see her after school. All to avoid talking to her.

It all worked until the actual night of our 17th birthday party.

It was at this fancy outdoor place that usually hosted big events like birthdays, weddings, graduation parties and that type of thing.

Because I had essential dropped myself from getting involved, the guest list was left to my mother and Lil. It resulted in literally everyone we knew (or ever met) showing up to wish us a happy birthday.

"Whoa," Chuckie my friend said in awe as we sat in one of the two changing rooms my parents seemed to think Lillian and I needed for our birthday for pre party dressing.

Whoa was right. This felt more like Lil and I were getting married. For fuck's sake, it was just a birthday, not our wedding day.

"I know," I said, sipping on a cold beer with my other hand in my pocket. "Lil really outdid herself this time."

"You mean you didn't have a say in any of this?" asked my best friend Tommy to which I shook my head.

"Would have been real impressive if you had," he teased. I smirked and the guys laughed a bit.

"Well, it's a good thing Lil has so many girl friends," Chuckie said suggestively. "Chances of getting lucky tonight are high."

I smirked, amused at this. Chuckie was the nerd of the pack. And by nerd I meant female repellent. However, at these parties it always echoed true that anyone close to the birthday boy was guaranteed to get some sort of action.

"Some of us will always get lucky," Tommy said, referring to his and Kimi's relationship. Chuckie didn't look too enthusiastic about that one, Kimi was his little sister.

"I didn't need to know that," Chuckie said. Tommy shrugged, waving the proverbial white flag. Tommy' s little brother Dylan scoffed.

"The one person most likely to get most of the girls is Phil," Dil interjected as he sat with his feet on a table, shuffling cards. "Girls like being with the man of the moment."

They all looked at me for some sort of excited reaction, and I nearly let my guard down thinking about the one and only woman I was interested in getting... Lil. Oh cruel irony.

I caught myself in time, snapped out of it and grinned "I'm gonna need some sort of roaster."

There was a knock at the door as the guys laughed and Chuckie answered it "Oh, hey birthday girl. You look beautiful."

"Hey Chuck," came my sister's voice. "Can I see Phil for a bit?"

"Sure thing," Chuckie said. He called me over to the door and I put my beer down and braced myself, putting on the closest thing to a normal twin brother act as I could.

Seeing my sister in her short royal blue dress and white heels rendered me speechless. Chuckie wasn't lying, but calling Lil beautiful was definitely the understatement of the evening.

Her skin radiated, she had her long brown hair curled neatly and matching makeup to highlight her features ever so subtly. The girl had grown to become a gorgeous woman with confidence and grace to match.

My stomach tightened into a ball as I felt the familiar arousal flood over me. This time, I didn't fight it.

"'Sup?" I asked casually as Chuckie went back inside to keep talking to the guys about girls.

"I gotta talk to you," she said, taking my hand. "C'mon."

I didn't question her, and did as she told. We walked to the birthday tent perched outside talking about the generic stuff like how much it all cost and what an impressive job her and my mother had done. My hand was becoming sweaty in my small manicured ones.

She took me further to a couple of swings by the lake that overlooked the event and stopped, smiling at me and finally releasing my hand.

It may seem biased or even a bit self-involved (because we have the same smile) to say at this point, but I had always thought she had the most amazing smile.

It lit up the whole place and had the ability to make me feel happy, no fail.

"What?" I asked from my swing, smiling back.

"I have a gift for you," she replied, fishing out a small box from her clutch bag.

"No way, seriously Lil? I didn't even get you anything!" I said.

"It's ok. I know where you live," she said giggling a bit. I scoffed, now feeling guilty that I hadn't bothered to get her a gift.

Opening the carefully wrapped box, it revealed an expensive looking watch "Wow," I said. "Lil, this is... wow."

"Turn it around," she said excitedly. Turning it, I saw 'ILY Phil' engraved on the back and my heart melted. Looking up at my sister and grinning goofily, I said "It's amazing, thank you."

"No worries," she said bubbly. "I mean, it cost me all my savings but really, you deserve it. Even though you've literally been dodging me the last couple of months."

"Sorry. I was just... going through a phase," I said. "Needed to work through everything alone. but it's all fixed now."

Was it...?

"It's ok." She whispered.

I did not deserve this. Her forgiveness. Her gift. Her love.

I had been so engrossed in trying to deny my lust for her that I forgot to be her brother... Something that I was meant to be first and foremost. Something I would always be. Someone she could turn to for protection, care and whatever else she needed.

Guilt settled where my lust boiled and was replaced by a more brotherly, selfless love for her.

"Come over here you," I said, standing with my arms wide open.

"Lol, no. No need to be gross Phillip!" she mocked playfully. "A thank you is just fine."

"I'm not leaving without one," I informed her. She rolled her eyes and got up from her swing and into my arms, burying her head on my chest.

Lil smelt perfect and I knew at that point I had missed this type of contact. Not being scared non-sexually inclined physical touch with my twin... I yearned for it.

We used to wrestle and hug and give each other pecks on the cheek since we were babies until I got weird. I suddenly understood then how she had ended up thinking I was 'dodging' her. Hell, we fought.

We talked like each other's best friends and at some point in our lives were completely comfortable changing around one another and sleeping in the same bed.

But that was just about it.

We did it because we were twins who had spent every single waking hour of our lives together. Not because we wanted to be anything more. Anything inappropriate.

I let go of the hug and tickled her, she giggled and yelled "No Phil, stop!"

"That's my birthday gift to you," I joked.

"If you're serious you're dead," she replied. "You're lucky I'm trying not to get my dress dirty or else I would have wrestled you to the ground."

"Right. You're just a weakling," I taunted. "Admit it."

Lillian didn't take too well to that word. She never did. So before I knew it, and despite her not wanting to ruin her dress, she had me in a headlock.

"Take that back!" she threatened, tightening her hold.

"If you had asked nicely, maybe I would have," I said, effortlessly pulling out of her grip, grabbing her hands and locking them behind her so that her back was against my chest. "...You were saying?"

She tried for the life of her to wrestle out of my grip but failed miserably "When did you get so strong!" she complained as she continued to writhe, her efforts futile.

"Haha, only you can make that sound like an insult," I said enjoying having the upper hand.

Despite the fact that she was creasing my perfectly ironed shirt I had pulled her even closer to me, her hair now coating my cheek and her flawlessly perky ass against my thigh.

It made me revert to old habits and I knew if I held on much longer I would probably end up doing something stupid that would ruin our birthday

"... You look beautiful Lillian." I said, feeling myself throb against her warm skin.

Shit.

With that, I quickly let her go and attempted to conceal my budding erection by buttoning up my tuxedo blazer.

There was no way she could have felt that... but there also was no way to be sure she had not, so I waited for some sort of reaction from her.

She was looking at me with a raised eyebrow "I know," she said, finally smiling that angelic smile. "You look beautiful too."

I laughed, more relieved than anything "Thanks."

The rest of the party went well, to say the least. I was glad I was back in good standing with her, but it wasn't long after that my unwanted feelings began to resurface.

Now more stronger than before.

This time I knew there was something wrong with the type of attraction I was feeling for her. It was strong, wrong and it resulted in dreams of her in all sorts of positions, waiting for and wanting me. Panting for me.

Senior year proved to be a whole different ball game. I grew ten times more overprotective than before. Guys with less than pure motives at school kept showering Lillian with interest and I steady became a ticking time bomb.

I found myself lashing out at her whenever she went out on a date and at times completely ignoring her when she was in a relationship.

Our fights tripled over the year and the petty jealousies quadrupled on my side. Everything became personal. By the time graduation came around I had quit fighting my repressed feelings for her and learnt to live with them. In a way, I was more able to control the situation by accepting it for what it was.

I wanted to fuck my sister.

I wanted to be with her.

I _needed _to be the only man in her life.

I didn't want anyone else to have her because they didn't know/love her like I did.

To be honest, it might sound wrong, but it didn't feel wrong. It was the stigma attached to it that kept me at bay. That and the fact that she'd think I was a total pervert then probably disown me if I showed or did anything out of place.

And a life without Lillian was one life I never wanted to live.

Even if it takes forever, I resolved that I wouldn't let my taboo feelings for Lil get the best of me.

So there you have it. The short reason why I was faced with having to consistently keep up appearances by going out with complete strangers.

I had met Selma or Sarah, no it was Seirra, less than an hour ago and she was starting to irritate me.

To make matters worse, I was exhausted from the culinary class I took. They usually had us standing for a good 6 hours of gourmet cooking and serving. So you can see why I was really in no mood to be pretending to like the bitch. At least not today.

Selma was a looker, that much I couldn't deny, but my mind wasn't as into the date as I had wished... I had resorted to daydreaming of Lil in order not to fall asleep.

Chastising myself for it, I felt that all too familiar pang of guilt. This shit needed to stop. After years of entertaining the forbidden feelings I harbored, a part of me was terrified that there was no getting over it without professional help... Maybe that was what I needed. A damn shrink.

One afternoon, I even went and got a psychologist's card from the career center at my college, determined to go get help, but was unable to make the call because some stupid shit came up. The card now lived somewhere in the mess of my room. Probably gathering dust and cobwebs.

Donning a monkey suit in an upmarket restaurant, I was just about done listening to Sierra go on about Mac cosmetics and her favourite shade of burgundy.

She seemed to have noticed my absentmindedness and resorted to rubbing her foot against my leg to get my attention.

I nearly choked on my beer when she gave me that 'ravish me tonight' look when I met her gaze. Free sex, every man's dream.

"How about we skip dessert and get outta here?" She cooed.

That wasn't such a bad idea considering that I'd spare my life savings if I ended the night early and ditched the overpriced joint.

"Sure," I said, motioning for the waiter to bring us our bill.

We left the place and I took the highway to her house. The car was silent and the ride felt awkward as hell.

Sara or Senna, Serena kept rubbing her hand over my leg and reaching for my member, and I retaliated thrice by rubbing her hand, kissing and giving it back to her, telling her not to distract me while I drove, lest I cause an accident.

That was as 'nice' as I'd get but the headache knocking on my skull was slowly dissipating my kindness.

The girl probably had a low alcohol tolerance to be throwing herself at a complete stranger like this. That or she got attached real quick.

When she reached out again, I concluded the she wasn't going to take any kind of hint. Eau de desperation by Clingy was not a good scent on such a pretty face.

Maybe sex with her wasn't the best thing for the long run. I foresaw many texts, calls and jealous outbursts from her in my future. And never before has Phillip been one to ignore such prophecies of doom. My gut feeling never let me down.

When we finally arrived at her apartment, I walked her to the door, hand in hand. Turning to her, I feigned a smile and lied that I had class early the next day, but would have otherwise loved to sleep over….despite it being a Saturday. More lies.

"That's a bummer," she said, kissing me on the lips. "I really enjoyed myself."

"Me too," I lied again, returning the kiss stole of any passion or honesty, just marred with fatigue and pretense.

When I returned home, it was nine fifteen.

All I wanted was to knock out peacefully on my bed and sleep in the whole weekend. Usually I would have resigned it to still be too early to go to bed and go to a bar to drink but tonight I didn't care much to stick to a schedule. I was mentally, physically and emotionally drained and I desperately needed to replenish my energy bar.

I got to my door to find it unlocked when I tried to key it open. Panicking, I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. While I was pulling the door open, I braced myself to possibly attack an axe murderer, robber or some other variation of dangerous criminal. But when I entered, I spotted the last person I wanted to see that night sitting on the couch watching TV under a blanket, looking comfortable.

Lillian.

"Hello, 911?" asked the operator.

Shit.


End file.
